Crossing paths with a US presidential interpreter from my school in Delhi’s Rajouri Garden

In the bright rush of London’s Piccadilly Circus — where lights flash and crowds flow like tides — I saw her. Gurdeep Kaur Chawla. We knew each other through LinkedIn, yet had never met in person. Still, we knew at once.

She had once studied at my school — Guru Nanak Public School in Rajouri Garden, West Delhi. She left young, in Grade V, years before I arrived. Yet the connection felt real.

We sat down at Five Guys. As we spoke, names from the past surfaced: Mrs R K Baweja and Ms Naresh — two teachers who shaped young minds in classrooms far from this busy square.

Gurdeep spoke in warm, rich Punjabi. Her words carried no edge, only calm grace. Her presence was light, free of show. She did not speak like someone accustomed to power. She spoke like someone deeply aware of where she came from.

She had served as the Lok Sabha’s interpreting voice from 1990 to 1996. Later, she built Indian Languages Services LLC in the San Francisco Bay Area. And yes, she has lent her voice to three US Presidents — Donald Trump, Joe Biden, and Barack Obama. Yet in her conversation, there was no boast, no self-claim.

She studied at St Stephen’s College — a BA (Hons) in English, then an MA, followed by further study in political thought. But what stayed with me wasn’t her list of roles or degrees. It was her air — kind, soft, and true.

We didn’t talk of statecraft or corridors of power. We spoke of school days — the sound of the bell, the smell of chalk and dust. Strange how old halls can still bind two people who meet for the first time, years and miles apart.

There was no rush to our chat, no press need, no hunt for news. Just two souls, bound by a past not shared in time, yet still shared in heart.

In that brief meet, I saw what lasts: grace, roots, and the will to keep one’s self plain, though the world may roar loud.

Chance made us meet, far from home. Yet it felt less like chance, more like a small gift time had kept in store.

That day in London, I did not meet an aide to people of power. I met a soul shaped by the same walls that shaped me. And that, to me, meant more than any claim to fame. 

(The writer is a career journalist currently serving as Communications and Advocacy Director at UNITED SIKHS (UK), a charity registered in England and Wales)

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